Very best wishes to all my readers - may the coming year treat you well and bring you the things you need. Carrots, stud muffins, deep bedding etc. And most of all, may it be mule-free.
Said mule is making some progress down the road to civility - some, not a lot. He has finally agreed that brushing does not cause him pain and has stopped grinding his teeth and pinning his ears when the woman grooms him very gently. Yesterday she got a halter on him for the first time since he moved here. He was upset and angry at first but accepted a steady stream of treats as a settlement. Today he was somewhat better at being haltered. I have explained the management of humans to him at great length but he remains wary - he says every human he's met is randomly berserk and he's waiting for the woman to show her true colours. I reassured him that she is simple but well-meaning.
We're enduring arctic temperatures and today I accumulated an impressive beard of icicles. It grew so large that it clanked and rattled when I moved around. It all began when I made the mistake of having a drink of water and the woman said I looked like a member of an orchestra called ZZ Top - it must be a classical group with which I am unfamiliar.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Another Page From My Past
I was expecting spring by now, but since it appears to be delayed I thought I would share another chapter from my youth.
I suspect I may have some gypsy blood because I have always had the urge to see the world and follow my nose wherever it might lead me. Before I was a year old, I had hatched a plan to make my way onto the road in front of our paddock. The woman is very crafty and was always able to thwart my attempts to slip out unseen beside one of the horses - till the sunny spring day in my second year when I eluded her and made unerringly for the road at a ground-covering trot.
I hoped the fact that the woman was dressed very much in stay-at-home attire might discourage her from following me. She had just washed her hair and it looked like a half-dried haystack, she was wearing a stained tee shirt with no -ahem - underpinnings, and sported a dusty eyeshade, cut-off track pants and old duck boot with no socks. A frightening sight. Unfortunately she and the dog were on my trail immediately.
I shot out of the driveway and was startled by a large boat-like automobile, driven by a very old male human. It screeched to a halt just inches from my nose and I gave him a frosty glare. He turned an unusual shade of greyish white and the automobile continued bouncing gently up and down while we locked eyes. The woman was closing in, panting and trying to speak to me in reassuring tones, so I turned and made my way down the yellow line leading up the hill. Many other automobiles were rushing past us on all sides - participating in an exciting event called rush hour. An enormous vehicle with a turning drum on it's back came over the hill and was so intimidated by the sight of me that it drove onto the gravel part to give me the right of way. The three of us - donkey, woman, dog - formed a strung out line in the middle of the road. I felt wonderful. The woman was fading fast and I was ready to trot for miles.
THEN, an interfering busybody in a pickup truck came up beside me and gradually pushed me to the side and down a driveway. Honestly. Some people just can't stand to see someone else having fun. I trotted briskly down the driveway and turned into some open fields to my right. Still the woman pursued me. She was very sweaty and red in the face - not something the public wanted to see, I'm sure. I finally ended up in a corner between two fences and stopped to have a snack. I'd forgotten that running away from home should always involve packing a lunch.
I made a couple of token efforts to escape and then allowed her to attach a shank to my halter. My goodness, she was in a state. She was shaking like a leaf and gasping that I had scared her nearly to death and put us all in danger and blahblahblah. I felt a smidgen of guilt but overall was much buoyed up my my unexpected adventure. The trip home was much less eventful and she has never in the last decade let her guard down again. Nevertheless, I live in hope...
I like travelling in our metal box on wheels and she has promised to take me on some forest walks next summer. I plan to hold her to her promise and in the meantime I'm keeping an eye on the gate just in case an opportunity should arise.
I suspect I may have some gypsy blood because I have always had the urge to see the world and follow my nose wherever it might lead me. Before I was a year old, I had hatched a plan to make my way onto the road in front of our paddock. The woman is very crafty and was always able to thwart my attempts to slip out unseen beside one of the horses - till the sunny spring day in my second year when I eluded her and made unerringly for the road at a ground-covering trot.
I hoped the fact that the woman was dressed very much in stay-at-home attire might discourage her from following me. She had just washed her hair and it looked like a half-dried haystack, she was wearing a stained tee shirt with no -ahem - underpinnings, and sported a dusty eyeshade, cut-off track pants and old duck boot with no socks. A frightening sight. Unfortunately she and the dog were on my trail immediately.
I shot out of the driveway and was startled by a large boat-like automobile, driven by a very old male human. It screeched to a halt just inches from my nose and I gave him a frosty glare. He turned an unusual shade of greyish white and the automobile continued bouncing gently up and down while we locked eyes. The woman was closing in, panting and trying to speak to me in reassuring tones, so I turned and made my way down the yellow line leading up the hill. Many other automobiles were rushing past us on all sides - participating in an exciting event called rush hour. An enormous vehicle with a turning drum on it's back came over the hill and was so intimidated by the sight of me that it drove onto the gravel part to give me the right of way. The three of us - donkey, woman, dog - formed a strung out line in the middle of the road. I felt wonderful. The woman was fading fast and I was ready to trot for miles.
THEN, an interfering busybody in a pickup truck came up beside me and gradually pushed me to the side and down a driveway. Honestly. Some people just can't stand to see someone else having fun. I trotted briskly down the driveway and turned into some open fields to my right. Still the woman pursued me. She was very sweaty and red in the face - not something the public wanted to see, I'm sure. I finally ended up in a corner between two fences and stopped to have a snack. I'd forgotten that running away from home should always involve packing a lunch.
I made a couple of token efforts to escape and then allowed her to attach a shank to my halter. My goodness, she was in a state. She was shaking like a leaf and gasping that I had scared her nearly to death and put us all in danger and blahblahblah. I felt a smidgen of guilt but overall was much buoyed up my my unexpected adventure. The trip home was much less eventful and she has never in the last decade let her guard down again. Nevertheless, I live in hope...
I like travelling in our metal box on wheels and she has promised to take me on some forest walks next summer. I plan to hold her to her promise and in the meantime I'm keeping an eye on the gate just in case an opportunity should arise.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
The Day Of Boxes
Apparently that's what today is. I've been keeping a close watch in case some rogue boxes try to sneak up on me, but nothing so far. I have an intense fear and loathing of all boxes. We once had a young female donkey staying with us and when she discovered this deep-seated fear of mine, she went out of her way to find these cardboard demons, sneak up behind me and press them against my person. My heart rate soars just thinking about it.
The woman left a broom within my reach last night so I used the opportunity to give myself a good dental cleaning. First gnawing the wooden handle and then massaging my gums vigorously with the bristles. It felt wonderful but the woman just sighed and said "Oh Sheaffer, not again."
You'd think she'd appreciate my attention to proper dental care.
She also met my secret friend, though that was unintentional on his part. He's a small, brown, furry creature with long back legs, long ears and a very nervous disposition. He reminds me of my great aunt who got caught with the cooking sherry. He likes to come in the run-in and rummage around in the hay but always makes sure to leave when he hears the house door shut. Today he didn't hear it and the woman was almost in the run-in when he noticed her. Well! The excitement! He shot straight up the wall and then out the door, almost colliding with her and the dog. The woman leapt backwards, flailing her arms in the air and the dog shot off after him, yipping and yapping with excitement. Poor creature, I hope he comes back. He's excellent company; quiet, timid and polite - the complete antithesis of TJ.
Gale, I'm not sure about this New Year's thing. The humans said something incomprehensible about TJ wearing a diaper and being the "New" year and me wearing a flowing robe, grey beard and carrying a walking staff and being the "Old" year. I'll let you know when I find out what it all means. They have a primitive and poorly developed sense of humour, which I fear is at play here.
The woman left a broom within my reach last night so I used the opportunity to give myself a good dental cleaning. First gnawing the wooden handle and then massaging my gums vigorously with the bristles. It felt wonderful but the woman just sighed and said "Oh Sheaffer, not again."
You'd think she'd appreciate my attention to proper dental care.
She also met my secret friend, though that was unintentional on his part. He's a small, brown, furry creature with long back legs, long ears and a very nervous disposition. He reminds me of my great aunt who got caught with the cooking sherry. He likes to come in the run-in and rummage around in the hay but always makes sure to leave when he hears the house door shut. Today he didn't hear it and the woman was almost in the run-in when he noticed her. Well! The excitement! He shot straight up the wall and then out the door, almost colliding with her and the dog. The woman leapt backwards, flailing her arms in the air and the dog shot off after him, yipping and yapping with excitement. Poor creature, I hope he comes back. He's excellent company; quiet, timid and polite - the complete antithesis of TJ.
Gale, I'm not sure about this New Year's thing. The humans said something incomprehensible about TJ wearing a diaper and being the "New" year and me wearing a flowing robe, grey beard and carrying a walking staff and being the "Old" year. I'll let you know when I find out what it all means. They have a primitive and poorly developed sense of humour, which I fear is at play here.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Seasonal Greetings!
I feel rather elated (the woman says inflated) and rather giddy so I assume I've been assaulted by the Christmas spirit. Thank you to all blog friends and a very Merry Christmas to gale and completecare and cruiser and alex and elfwood and smokey and everyone else who spends some time reading my musings. My life is much improved by having an outlet for my views and a network of similar minded beings who share them with me.
As usual, the male human showed up with a container of Stud Muffins and a huge bag of peppermint flavoured snacks. I may share them - or may not, depending on how long this state of semi-euphoria lasts. Molly got shampoo and heaven knows she needs it because she's not exactly a girly girl. Doc and TJ got a shank and a container to keep things in. We always get a special hot Christmas dinner with lots of good things in it, so although the sun is absent, there is something to look forward to this afternoon.
Yesterday was worming day, which I feel is not entirely in the festive spirit but the woman says it must be done (she says that about a lot of unpleasant things). Doc cheered us up no end when he snorted and sneezed a mouthful onto the woman's face. She had orange blobs all over her front and stood there making spluttering noises and turning purple. Only fair that she get a taste of her own medicine - this time literally.
Although he's two years old, this is the first Christmas TJ has celebrated and he's alternately bemused and overexcited. I told him all about Santa Horse and the tradition of presents and leaving SH a snack. He got all worked up and said he'd wait up and eat the snack and then jump Santa Horse and extract presents from him. Fortunately he fell asleep or there would have been an unpleasant holiday incident.
As usual, the male human showed up with a container of Stud Muffins and a huge bag of peppermint flavoured snacks. I may share them - or may not, depending on how long this state of semi-euphoria lasts. Molly got shampoo and heaven knows she needs it because she's not exactly a girly girl. Doc and TJ got a shank and a container to keep things in. We always get a special hot Christmas dinner with lots of good things in it, so although the sun is absent, there is something to look forward to this afternoon.
Yesterday was worming day, which I feel is not entirely in the festive spirit but the woman says it must be done (she says that about a lot of unpleasant things). Doc cheered us up no end when he snorted and sneezed a mouthful onto the woman's face. She had orange blobs all over her front and stood there making spluttering noises and turning purple. Only fair that she get a taste of her own medicine - this time literally.
Although he's two years old, this is the first Christmas TJ has celebrated and he's alternately bemused and overexcited. I told him all about Santa Horse and the tradition of presents and leaving SH a snack. He got all worked up and said he'd wait up and eat the snack and then jump Santa Horse and extract presents from him. Fortunately he fell asleep or there would have been an unpleasant holiday incident.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Some Early History
I have a lot of time to devote to brooding lately, what with the cold, dark, short days and I was reminiscing about my arrival in the humans' lives on a frigid December evening twelve years ago. I thought I would share the tale with my readers since TJ apparently has something called ADD and thinks anything further back than two years ago happened in biblical times.
As an infant donkey of some six months, I was residing in a field with a shelter, part of a social network that included my mother, aunts and half siblings of various ages. On the above-mentioned evening, the resident human and his friend came into the field, put a halter contraption on my head (it was too large and kept sliding down my neck and off my nose). I was lifted into the back of a motorized box called a van. My travelling compartment was lined with printed paper and the second human sat in the seat in front of me, angled so he could give me reassurance. Kind of him, but I was really quite composed and enjoyed the ride enormously.
We soon became part of a huge herd of similar boxes, all flying along in the dark, sometimes nearly stopping and then crawling forward in fits and starts. The entire trip took two and a half hours and by then I had discovered the printed paper contained some shocking left wing views; I tore it into small strips. There seemed to be no bathroom facilities but I found a pocket on the door that served admirably.
On arrival, the door was flung open and I was lifted out onto a snowy driveway. The woman and male human were there to greet me and formed a sort of cradle of arms with the other two to carry me through the drifts to the barn. There was mention of royalty being borne to their palace upon a sedan chair. I ignored their babblings. I didn't let on that I had never actually been in a barn but made a furtive and thorough study of my surroundings. The place appeared empty but the woman was outside bellowing for someone called Daisy. In trotted a hairy creature about the size of my mother - they referred to it as "the pony" and I surmised it to be some sort of equine. It immediately began bossing me around. I was put in a huge room for the night, with a curtain thing in the doorway but I simply crawled under it and slept in the aisle, in front of the hairy equine's room. Daisy was a strange creature but adopted me as her own and I remember her fondly to this day. She now lives with friends of the woman, teaching the miniature humans how to behave around equines.
And that, dear readers, is the abbreviated version of my merger into the lives of my two humans. Since then I have grown somewhat in all directions and have learned much about many things. Mostly, I have learned to be patient with humans because they have limited abilites and respond better to kindness than force. I don't know what they'd do without me.
As an infant donkey of some six months, I was residing in a field with a shelter, part of a social network that included my mother, aunts and half siblings of various ages. On the above-mentioned evening, the resident human and his friend came into the field, put a halter contraption on my head (it was too large and kept sliding down my neck and off my nose). I was lifted into the back of a motorized box called a van. My travelling compartment was lined with printed paper and the second human sat in the seat in front of me, angled so he could give me reassurance. Kind of him, but I was really quite composed and enjoyed the ride enormously.
We soon became part of a huge herd of similar boxes, all flying along in the dark, sometimes nearly stopping and then crawling forward in fits and starts. The entire trip took two and a half hours and by then I had discovered the printed paper contained some shocking left wing views; I tore it into small strips. There seemed to be no bathroom facilities but I found a pocket on the door that served admirably.
On arrival, the door was flung open and I was lifted out onto a snowy driveway. The woman and male human were there to greet me and formed a sort of cradle of arms with the other two to carry me through the drifts to the barn. There was mention of royalty being borne to their palace upon a sedan chair. I ignored their babblings. I didn't let on that I had never actually been in a barn but made a furtive and thorough study of my surroundings. The place appeared empty but the woman was outside bellowing for someone called Daisy. In trotted a hairy creature about the size of my mother - they referred to it as "the pony" and I surmised it to be some sort of equine. It immediately began bossing me around. I was put in a huge room for the night, with a curtain thing in the doorway but I simply crawled under it and slept in the aisle, in front of the hairy equine's room. Daisy was a strange creature but adopted me as her own and I remember her fondly to this day. She now lives with friends of the woman, teaching the miniature humans how to behave around equines.
And that, dear readers, is the abbreviated version of my merger into the lives of my two humans. Since then I have grown somewhat in all directions and have learned much about many things. Mostly, I have learned to be patient with humans because they have limited abilites and respond better to kindness than force. I don't know what they'd do without me.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
I have my bags packed, now I just need the means to get somewhere much further south. Somewhere near the border (the Mexican one) would be ideal. I quite like the idea of baking in the sun and nibbling on a cactus. TJ of course will stay here.
Our area of operations is limited to a smallish circle around the barn. We have our eating spot thoroughly stomped down but even Doc the adventure horse is staying close to home. TJ goes off on short trips around the paddock, looking like a large dog tunneling in the snow, but unfortunately he always comes back. He still hurls himself at me in a random fashion and I have a cut over my eye from his hijinks and one on my posterior. He simply doesn't comprehend the concept of moderation. The woman lets me come and go as I please in the barn when she is out there, so it gives me a respite from the harassment. TJ's nose appears at the top of the Dutch door but he's too short to actually see anything; I make chewing noises so he thinks I'm eating delicacies non-stop. It drives him to distraction.
The woman had her teeth floated today, and a good thing, too. We have our annual appointment with the gag and rasp, so it's only fitting that she endure the same scraping and grinding. I hope they remembered to remove her wolf teeth.
Our area of operations is limited to a smallish circle around the barn. We have our eating spot thoroughly stomped down but even Doc the adventure horse is staying close to home. TJ goes off on short trips around the paddock, looking like a large dog tunneling in the snow, but unfortunately he always comes back. He still hurls himself at me in a random fashion and I have a cut over my eye from his hijinks and one on my posterior. He simply doesn't comprehend the concept of moderation. The woman lets me come and go as I please in the barn when she is out there, so it gives me a respite from the harassment. TJ's nose appears at the top of the Dutch door but he's too short to actually see anything; I make chewing noises so he thinks I'm eating delicacies non-stop. It drives him to distraction.
The woman had her teeth floated today, and a good thing, too. We have our annual appointment with the gag and rasp, so it's only fitting that she endure the same scraping and grinding. I hope they remembered to remove her wolf teeth.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Please Make It Stop!!
This has gone beyond nightmare territory. I can't bear to look at one more snowflake. I'm marooned in the run-in like a shipwreck survivor. TJ plows his way around and even seems to love standing out in the cursed stuff. The woman just shovels and shovels. First to get to the barn, then to get the wheelbarrow to the manure pile, then to get the truck out of the garage - and on it goes. I almost feel sorry for her - almost, but not quite. I've requested to stay in till March but she insists I get fresh air. She knows I prefer stale air and close quarters.
Yesterday, the humans put us in around two o'clock because the storm was so fierce. Then, they came out to our barn with lumber, power tools etc. They made TJ a proper stall at the end of the aisle. They left the door open so he wouldn't feel trapped and when he saw how much we enjoy construction work, he became much more interested. He even chewed the saw they left in the run-in. Doc is obsessed with power tools and managed to stand on the contractor's Makita saw when the barn was being built. The contractor blathered on and on about how sneaky we were because he had only left the door open for thirty seconds. The male human says Doc should do an ad campaign because the case broke but the saw didn't. I myself have a preference for those square yellow carpenters' pencils and sampled quite a few when the contractors left their tool boxes open. Humourless bunch, contractors.
I am so happy to have contact with the outside world through my diaries. It's my only link with sanity in these terrible days of ice and snow. Please lobby for a law that would see all donkeys flown south for the winter.
Yesterday, the humans put us in around two o'clock because the storm was so fierce. Then, they came out to our barn with lumber, power tools etc. They made TJ a proper stall at the end of the aisle. They left the door open so he wouldn't feel trapped and when he saw how much we enjoy construction work, he became much more interested. He even chewed the saw they left in the run-in. Doc is obsessed with power tools and managed to stand on the contractor's Makita saw when the barn was being built. The contractor blathered on and on about how sneaky we were because he had only left the door open for thirty seconds. The male human says Doc should do an ad campaign because the case broke but the saw didn't. I myself have a preference for those square yellow carpenters' pencils and sampled quite a few when the contractors left their tool boxes open. Humourless bunch, contractors.
I am so happy to have contact with the outside world through my diaries. It's my only link with sanity in these terrible days of ice and snow. Please lobby for a law that would see all donkeys flown south for the winter.
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